


Thunderstorms

by FreckleLemonade



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 09:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7356319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreckleLemonade/pseuds/FreckleLemonade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A late-night thunderstorm leads to unexpected cuddling with a certain blonde super soldier...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thunderstorms

**Author's Note:**

> I love thunderstorms and while listening to one the other night, my brain started storming too, haha! xD  
> Hope you like it! <3

You were sitting in your bed with your soft blankets tucked around you, reading a novel. The room was dark except for a few candles burning in their holders on your night table. They bathed you and the pages of your book in a soft, yellow glow. As you read, you could hear raindrops gently tapping on the window outside. It was cold and most people would call this a miserable night but you enjoyed the sound of the rain. It made you feel cozy and safe.

A sudden flash outside your window made you jump. It resembled the flash of a camera but you were on one of the top floors of Stark Tower. Unless Spiderman had scaled the building in the rain to snap photos of you in your pajamas, you were pretty sure it was just lightning. The slow, rumbling build-up of thunder confirmed your thoughts. It was quiet so it must be fairly far away. You shrug and return to your book. A minute later, another flash lit up your room. This time, a massive rumble of thunder sounded through the sky. That one was much closer.

You got up to pull your curtains shut. While you were by the window, you heard some faint whimpers coming from the room next to yours. You walked to your door, stepped out into the hallway, and listened. The noise was definitely coming from Steve's room. Maybe Bucky had been having another nightmare? You knew that Bucky sometimes spent the night on the couch in Steve's room when the memories of his past life came back to haunt him. Steve was Bucky's best friend and the only person that could calm him down when he slipped back into his Winter Soldier persona.

Another rumble came from outside. It was quieter than the last but every bit as ominous. Another sound of distress reached your ears from inside the room. Maybe Bucky was having a hard time with the noise. You wondered if you might be able to help Steve with calming him down. You walked up to Steve's bedroom door and gently knocked. You waited and strained your ears for a response. After a moment, you heard another whimper and, without another thought, you pushed the door open.

The room was dark and you automatically went to flick on the light but stopped. From the little bit of light that shone in from the hallway, you could tell that Bucky was nowhere in sight. That was unexpected. Glancing toward the bed, you saw Steve, hunched over and wrapped in his navy blue quilt. His eyes were wide with terror. You walked to a night table and turned on the small reading lamp that sat atop it. The light didn't do a lot to illuminate the dark room but you could at least see his face a little clearer now.

"Steve, are you okay?" You asked, staring at him in shock.

He didn't respond but just stared straight ahead. He seemed to be having some kind of panic attack. More thunder crashed outside and he flinched, his jaw clenching and his eyes shut tightly. You stood there, mouth slightly open, staring at the mountain of muscle that was now visibly shaking in his bed. You walked to his side and softly touched his shoulder. He jumped. His eyes shot open again and 

"Steve, it's okay. It's just me," you said calmly.

It took him a frantic moment to recognize your face.

"Is it the thunderstorm?" You asked.

He nodded slightly.

You chest tightened at the sight of him, quivering like a terrified child. You climbed onto the bed beside him and wrapped your arms around him. His breathing was ragged with fear but it began to slow a little as you pulled him into your arms. You rubbed circles on his broad back in an effort to calm him down. Steve leaned into you and rested his head on your shoulder. His body felt massive compared to yours. 

After about ten minutes, his breathing was fairly even again and you pulled away from him to see how he was doing. His face seemed more relaxed and he wasn't shaking anymore. You breathed a sigh of relief.

"How are you feeling now?"

"A little better," he mumbled. "Sorry about all this."

He hung his head, avoiding your eyes. In the dim lamplight, you could see the embarrassed expression he wore. He felt ashamed about appearing so vulnerable in front of you. You shushed him and put your palm on his cheek, turning his face so that he was looking at you.

"Everyone has stuff that freaks them out, stuff they can't handle. I'm not going to tell anybody," you paused and smiled encouragingly at him, "You don't have to be Captain America in front of me, Steve."

He looked at you and nodded. A tiny smile crept across his face. You sat there in silence for a few minutes until an odd thought crossed your mind.

"Steve?"

"Hmm?"

"How do you deal with Thor if you're so afraid of thunder?" You asked, "I've never seen you like this around him."

"It's not really the thunder I'm afraid of," he explained, "I can handle it most of the time. When it wakes me up at night, though, it feels like I'm back in the war. The thunder turns to grenades and gunfire and I'm awake but all I can see is blood and broken bodies. And Bucky..."

Steve trailed off with a haunted look in his eye.

"I don't want to go back to sleep," he murmured, mostly to himself, "I don't want to go back to that nightmare again."

You leaned over and gently kissed his cheek.

"I have an idea. I'll be right back, okay?"

His arms encircled your waist as you tried to get up. His eyes were wide again. The expression on his face threatened to shatter your heart.

"Please, don't go," he whispered.

You placed your hand on his arm.

"I'll only be a second. I promise I'll be as quick as I can."

He hesitated for a second. Then he nodded, reluctantly letting go of you.

You got up and dashed out the door, back to your room. The thing you were looking for was sitting on top of your dresser: your headphones. Not just any old headphones, either; they were fancy cordless Bluetooth, noise-cancelling ones. You had spent a pretty penny on them but they were so worth it on the days when life at the tower was just a little too loud for you. Your iPod was sitting beside them on the dresser. You picked up the two items and rushed back to Steve's room next door.

"Got it," you said triumphantly, holding up the headphones and iPod.

Steve let out the deep breath he realized he had been holding in since you left the room. He looked at the things in your hand and seemed a little confused. You walked over to him, placed the headphones over his ears, and tapped the play button. It was set to your soothing classical playlist. You knew the first song that started playing off by heart. It was a tranquil cello piece that you often listened to when you couldn't sleep; it was one of your favourites.

Steve's expression softened almost immediately. His eyelids drooped a little and, when you lightly pushed against his chest, he allowed himself to be settled back onto the mattress. You slipped the iPod into the pocket of his pajama pants, smoothed back his blonde hair from his forehead, and pulled the blanket up over him. He grasped your hand in his as you turned to leave the room. As he looked up at you, you could see the soft, crystalline blue of his eyes illuminated in the moonlight that shone in through the window.

"Stay with me," Steve whispered, "Please."

You blinked at him as a deep blush washed over your face. Steve Rogers was clinging to your hand, practically tugging you towards him. He was gazing up at you with those eyes, begging you to stay. You paused for a moment, took a deep breath to quiet the butterflies in your stomach, and then crawled into the bed beside him. You decided to leave the lamp on in case he woke up again in the night. Steve moved over to accommodate you and pulled the quilt up to your chin as you snuggled into his side. His body heat instantly made you feel drowsy. He carefully turned over so that you were facing each other and placed his arm over you in a protective embrace. He pulled you closer to him so that you were just barely touching.

"Thank you," he mumbled as he drifted off to sleep.

You felt his chest rise and fall with each steady breath he took. You stared at Steve's peaceful, sleeping face for a few moments. His features were bathed in the soft yellow glow of the lamplight. His dark lashes were fanned over his lightly flushed cheeks. You leaned forward and softly kissed his jaw before tucking your head under his chin. As the storm rumbled on outside, you felt cozy in his arms. You breathed a sigh of contentment and finally fell asleep against Steve's warm chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3
> 
> Chapter 3 of 'Hair Issues' will be coming out soon! I'm just taking a tiny break from writing about Bucky to write some Steve fluff. ((Shh, Bucky, don't worry. I still love you.))
> 
> Feedback is appreciated; let me know what you think!


End file.
